On March 27, 2011, my father dropped me off in Georgia and we both headed back to Maine. He was going back in a car and I was on foot.

The next two days my dad spent his time doing 75 mph on highways. During those same two days I walked in the woods, getting rained on.

All of the mental pictures I had of beautiful views and wildlife were replaced by fog, rain, trees and mud. Somehow, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

Over the next five-plus months the smile grew, along with my beard, and the sun came out. Being 26 years old and an avid hiker, I assumed that the trail would be much more of a mental challenge than a physical one. Boy, was I wrong.

After a month of carrying my bulging backpack over what seemed like every mountain south of Virginia, my knees felt like they could explode at any moment. Luckily, my thighs were so sore that I could hardly bend my throbbing knees, anyway.

Sometimes I think that the only thing that kept me going was the friendship (and mutual physical pain) of two people I met on the trail. I hiked with them off and on for almost half of the 2,000-plus-mile trail.

One (named 4-Beard) was from South Georgia and the other (Fish Head) was from Michigan. They are like brothers to me now.

Summarizing my 2,181-mile hike and the time spent on the trail is next to impossible. It’s too long, too tough, and way too much fun to be able to truly explain it to someone clearly.

Most people I talk to about the trail nod their heads and say, “Oh, that sounds nice.” They just don’t get it.

To get it, you have to experience it. Standing on top of Katahdin in September, thinking back on all of the miles of trail, every time I set up my tent, all the laughs, all the blisters, all the small towns along the way, all the friends, all the beautiful views, and all the wildlife — I finally got it.

Cody DeMillo lives in Jay. His trail name is “Coyote.”